Fish Paste: A Document of Madness!
by Captive Viscera
Summary: Squidward Tentacles tells the harrowing tale of his seven day decent into madness.
1. Chapter 1

What follows is a document of my descent into madness. I know that it probably won't be considered legitimate madness to most of you, because of the fact that I'm aware of it, but whatever. There must be a testament to the moronic behaviour of most of my fellow bottom dwellers, and its disturbing effect on me. And so begins my tale of madness.

**Day 1:  
**  
My morning  
  
I wake up this morning, to the sound of shrill laughter. As if this isn't bad enough, I look over at my bedroom window to see that it is indeed another Happy Yellow Moron Day. And there, at my window, is the bearer of this news...at SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING.

Goodmorning, Squidward!WILL YOU PLEASE GET AWAY FROM MY WINDOW! And put on some clothes! I don't get up in the morning to look at your undergarments!Why do you get up in the morning, Squidward?

I imagine myself in front of the cash register; it looms before me.

Go AWAY!But Squidward, I wanted to be the first to tell you that you've won!Won? What could I possibly have WON?Oh Squidward...my FRIENDSHIP, of course!

I grab my telephone from the bedside table and throw it as hard as I can at the open window. The thing seems to imbed itself in his stupid yellow body, before suddenly bouncing back out and straight into my face.

Fish paste.

Later on...during my morning

Here I am at the cash register -- pressing buttons, taking money, making change. This is my life. Oh, wait...my life gets more interesting by the second...there is Spongebob. He's delivering little flyers telling our customers that I've won his friendship. And his friendship isn't isn't easy to earn, he tells them. Unfortunately, I've been doing something right.

I am staring at my cash register. I suppose it's not really _my _cash register. But I've been standing at this thing for years and years. I will probably be standing here in front of it the day I die. They'll bury it with my body.

I picture my tombstone: Here lies Squidward, friend of Spongebob. You may not remember who he was, but he was grey and had big nose.

I look at the clock. I've been here only three and a half minutes. I have hours upon hours left. Hours of sheer misery. Why doesn't somebody just shoot me now and get it over with. I will buy the gun. I'll load it myself, and place it in your hand and massage your fingers to make the pulling of the trigger less stressful.

HEY, WINNER!

And here he is in front of me with his eager face.

Leave me alone.That's not the attitude of a winner, Squidward! But that's what makes you a special winner. You try to hide your fabulous, winning self behind a mask of disapproval. Let's sing the F.U.N. song, FRIEND! Sure, I made it up for Plankton, but just call me Elton! F is for Friends who do stuff together! You is for You and Me. N is for Anywhere and Anytime and Always, here in the deep blue sea!

As often happens in this stupid life of mine, Spongebob's song creates a bunch of colourful, swirly letters to float in the air around me. And they spell FUN. The F just landed on my head.

Look, Squidward, the F loves you too!

Just kill me. Kill me now.

The letter F on my head starts to melt. It runs down my face in annoying, purple, sticky dribbles. I can hear the sound of it landing on the floor by my tentacles. I have no idea where the U and the N went.

My afternoon

I'm in the stock room, taking inventory. I hate the fact that the stock room only appears when Mr. Krabbs wants me to take inventory. The rest of the time, there is only the restaurant and the kitchen. I haven't yet figured out how that works; it's just another meaningless hindrance to my happiness.

There are at least 50 boxes of Krabby Paties. They're not frozen. How does that work? Are they freeze-dried? Does Spongebob soak them in water and then fry them? And what about that time I went nuts for Krabby Patties, and there was a huge vault of pre-made ones? Is there no consistency in my life! How are these patties being made? Why does the process keep changing? And why does nobody inform me of the changes or of why they might be happening!

I scrawl down 50 in the little space beside Krabby Patty Boxes. I kick the box closest to me, kick it as hard as I can! That makes me feel a little better, until I realize that my tentacle is now wedged in the box. I can feel patties on my flesh, and it makes me sick. My tentacle begins to tingle, and then to itch. As if this wasn't irritating enough, Mr. Krabbs bursts through the door with an inquiry.

What in the name of Neptune is taking so long, Mr. Squidward!My tentacle is being swallowed by your product, Mr. Krabbs, and if you don't mind, I'd like to suffer in private!Nonsense, I'll send Spongebob back to help! But it's too late.

The next few seconds feel like hours, as I await the Big Yellow Entrance. Hmmmm...  
actually, I think hours have passed by. What's going on? I can't hear anything.

Anybody out there!

Nothing.

My evening  
  
I'm on the floor. My tentacle is still stuck in the Krabby Patty box. I think I may have fallen asleep. I can't remember. It's only the first day of my descent into madness, and already my reality is beginning to slip away from me.

I wish I had my clarinet with me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 2:  
**  
My morning  
  
I wake up to find myself safely in bed. The last thing I can remember is lying on the floor in the Krusty Krabb stock room with my foot lodged in a box of patties. How did I get out? I'm not sure. But this sort of thing happens often in this stupid life of mine.

I can see that Spongebob is not at my window; this is a comfort to me. Although, it makes me a little uneasy once I begin to wonder where precisely he is! Perhaps you may not understand, but the situation I'm finding myself in is rather disturbing.

I'm about to get out of bed, when a thought occurs to me: He's most likely under my bed! Waiting...just waiting for me to dangle my feet over the edge so he can...do..._something_. I make myself as still and quiet as possible. Perhaps I can hear him breathing. I do! No, wait...that's my breath. Okay...well, I'll stop breathing. This isn't pleasant, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Slowly, quietly...I lean over the edge of my bed. He's not there. Phew! That's a relief. Ah, but it's only a relief for a second or two, because then it occurs to me that if he isn't under my bed, he could be _anywhere_! Can you imagine my terror?

I make my way downstairs to call Mr. Krabbs.

Hello, Mr. Krabbs, I'm not coming in today?What's the meaning of this, Mr. Squidward!I'm...not well.But this restaurant is my bread and butter. And no bread and butter will be made if there isn't anybody to collect the money.

I wonder to myself: Who works during my days off?

Squidward, you must know that my life depends on this restaurant running smoothly!Well, mine doesn't. Hire somebody else. I hang up. I think to myself: perhaps that was a stupid move, but then it occurs to me that I can get a job as a clarinet player.

My afternoon  
  
I've quit my job, and so I won't have to deal with Spongebob during my working hours. How to be rid of him during the rest of my day, well...I'll cross that bridge later.

I'm looking through the classifieds in the Bikini Bottom Herald. Counter help needed at the Weenie Hut. A janitor needed at Mrs. Puff's Boating School. Nurses needed at Shady Shoals Retirement Home. Jobs for losers! What I'm looking for is a little more sophisticated. Aha!Clarinet player needed! I call the number listed.

a disinterested voice answers.

Hi! My name is Squidward Tentacles and I'm--I don't care! And he hangs up on me. I call again.

Hi there, perhaps we were cut off earlier-- A click. End of conversation.

I call back again.

A clarinet player?Yes. I am.Can you come in for an interview today?What time?Come by the Bikini Bottom Community Centre at four.Okay, that sounds-- Click.

Later...during my afternoon

I'm sitting in front of a skinny fish with only one eye. He keeps blinking at me, and neither one of us has spoken. I've been here for five minutes already. I clear my throat, hoping that might cause some action.

Do you have any experience?Um...clarinet playing experience?Sure! I've been playing since I was a baby! I love my clarinet.Do you have any references?Um, references?Well, not really.Has anybody heard you play?

Spongebob has heard me play. We can't hire you unless we speak to somebody who has heard you play.Can't _you _listen to me play?We need a second opinion.Well, there is one reference I might be able to supply.Can you bring them in?You mean _now_? In person?Do you have a telephone?

My evening  
  
Five hours have gone by, and skinny one-eyed fish and I are still waiting for Spongebob to arrive! We've just been staring at each other. The room becomes narrower and narrower. I can feel sweat pouring out of me and landing on the floor; each drop sounds like a gallon. I wonder how it is that I can notice my sweat, when I'm living under water. When you actually start to _think_ about your life and the world around you, you begin to realize that nothing actually makes any sense. The only thing I can be sure of is...music. My new career as a clarinet player will give me some stability. I will create sense where there is none.

The door bursts open. I'm READY! And there he is, but something has gone horribly wrong. Something naked and purple is smiling there in the doorway. I feel weary.

Yes, Squidward?Why don't you have any clothes on, and why are you PURPLE?I thought I should make a striking first impression.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3:  
**  
Another Morning, Another Migraine

I'm awake. I hate being awake. But since I am, I'm going to make the best of it. Spongebob ruined my shot at a great career as a clarinet player. I can't do anything about that, but I can be the master of my own attitude.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. What will I have for breakfast thing morning. I need something hearty and nutritious since I'm about to embark on a whole new life! I've got...nothing in my fridge. Oh well, I'll just go down to the store to fetch some sustenance.

Right after I take my bath. La-da-da, la dee-dee... Today will be a good day.

Early afternoon

I love the supermarket. All the food you could ever want right here in front of me. Here we go -- canned bread. I'll have ten cans of that.

La-da-da, la dee-dee.

You know Squidward, if you had only quit your job at the Krusty Krab earlier, you could have been a happier squid by now. Freedom, sweet freedom.

Oh, look. It's my favourite cashier. What's his name, with the brownish fins.

Hey there, and how are you today? I ask.

Ten cans of bread? You're a wild party there, fella.I am feeling unusually festive today, yes.Uh-huh...that'll be twenty bucks.Twenty dollars! Are you telling me that these cans cost two dollars each?Uh, yeah...I guess that's what I'm sayin.Don't you think that's a little expensive?Canned bread is shipped from up above somewhere. You have fancy tastes, you gotta pay fancy prices. Can I have your money now, sir?You're lucky I'm feeling generous today.

I open my wallet, feeling like a big spender...oh yes, indeed. Oh, fish paste! I haven't got any money on me.

It seems that I'm a bit short at the moment.Will it be only five cans of bread for you today, sir?I'll be right back.

I make my way over to the bank. I wish I had been clever enough to check my wallet before shopping, but my good mood is taken away my common sense.

I approach the teller, a pretty fish with both of her eyes.

Hello, sir.I would like to withdraw some money please.Are you Mr. Squidward Tentacles?Yes, I can see I've made quite an impression around here.Um, yes...there's a photo of you on the wall over there. None of us are allowed to give you any money. You're account has been closed due to your lack of employment.Hahaha, now really...I enjoy a good gag as much as the next sea dweller, but I'm kind of in a hurry to get some canned bread...so if you don't mind--Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, there's a client behind you.Ahem...young lady, there is a client _in front of you_ now!Sir, you don't have an account with us.How does that make any sense? I just quit my job yesterday, how can my account possibly be closed already!It's a new system that's just been set up, sir. Your payroll information is linked to your account registration, and the termination of your employment immediately effects the status of your account.But I had money in that account!Fifty dollars and twenty-eight cents.Well, I'm sure I had more, but fine! I would like that money!It has been transferred into the account of your coworker. A Mr. Spongebob Squarepants.Transferred, sir.Why, dare I ask, did that happen!I can't disclose bank policies, Mr. Tentacles.This is ridiculous!Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.I'm not leaving UNTIL I GET MY FIFTY DOLLARS AND TWENTY-EIGHT CENTS!

Two beefy fish just grabbed my arms and are dragging me to the door. One of these guards, looks down at me and says, Hey, you're the guy who always takes my lunch order. I've always wanted get the chance to do this.Do what?

And they toss me into the middle of the road.

That's for all the times you glared at me from behind the counter, you stupid, bald loser!

I have never been so insulted in my life. Look at all these fish just staring at me! How dare they!

Go ahead and look! Someday I'll own this town, and then you'll all wish you were grey and bald!Why are yelling in the middle of the road, Squidward?

Spongebob is running up to me with his spatula and Krusty Krabb hat.

I came just as soon as I heard there was a bald, grey lunatic in the middle of the road.Spongebob, go back to WORK!Oh, don't worry...it's my break.

My evening of rotten lemons  
  
I'm in Spongebob's house. I hate it here. Who in their right mind would live in a pineapple?

Okay, Squidward. Here is the plan. I'll give you an allowance of one dollar a day. That should last you about three months..

I can't believe I'm listening to this.

I'd like my money, Spongebob. Can you just give me my fifty bucks?That's not good financial planning, Squidward. The heavy responsibility of managing your finances has fallen to me. I take that responsibility seriously.Spongebob, I don't need a financial manager.You're a squid in denial. It breaks my heart to see you like this.Oh, how touching! Just tell me when we get to hug!Right now!

And he leaps on me. The big yellow moron just threw himself at me. Those arms of his that change their length to accommodate his every whim, are wrapping around me over and over again. Am I the only one in this stupid town who's freaked out by Spongebob's body? Doesn't anyone else stay up at night trying to make sense of such a freak show? Let's pretend for a moment that I can ignore the fact that his face takes up 80 percent of his total surface area...can I come to terms with the fact that he can shatter into pieces one moment, and then liquify the next? 

Okay, Spongebob, that's quite enough.

Suddenly, I hear a loud rumble from outside. It's followed by an even louder CRASH! I pry Spongebob's arms off of my body, and run to the door.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! What are you doing?

A bulldozer is shoving my Easter Island Head right off my property and down the road!

Wait a minute! That's my house!

I run as fast as I can, but it's no use. My house is gone! I want to crawl under a rock and spend the next 40 years pretending that I'm somebody else!

Y'know, Squidward, you can stay at my house. It'll be like a sleepover. Except we can do it over and over again every night! And you won't have to go home ever, because you don't have a home!

Suddenly Patrick's rock pops up and out he comes.

Hey! What's the ruckus?Oh, hey Patrick. They just took Squidward's house away.

Patrick comes right up to me and lays a comforting hand on my shoulder.

Y'know what they say.No, Patrick, I don't know what they say.When life hands you lemons, remember to put them in the fridge.But Squidward doesn't have a fridge anymore, Patrick.Oh...I guess your lemons will go rotten.

Yes, Patrick, my lemons are indeed going rotten.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4:  
**  
HOOOOOOOOOOONK!

I scramble like mad to a corner of Spongebob's bedroom. We're obviously under attack. My heart has lodged itself in my throat as it attempts to flee a body about to be blasted out of existence.

_HOOOOOOOOONK!  
_  
Oh my God! Why can't they just blow my head off and get it over with? Why must they sound that horrible alarm over and over again! Just get it over with!

Spongebob! He's obviously still alive. I wonder if it's safe to lift the tentacles from my eyes and see what's left of our surroundings. Uh, maybe just a second or two of ignorance...

Hey, Squidward, what are you doing in the corner? And why are you shaking? And why are you covering your head? And why --

_Ding!  
_  
Ah, an idea has just occurred to Mr. Yellow Dumb-ass Pants. You can tell because of the stupid bell that sounds to a mark the occasion.

You're having a seizure!

I take the risk, and open my eyes. There is Spongebob standing at full attention at the end of his bed. And then I see it, his fog horn alarm. Oh, for pete's sake, it was only--

Spongebob leaps at me. I learned about this in Mrs. Puff's required Fish Aid Seminar! Let me just put you into the recovery position.Spongebob, I'm not having a--

He grabs my head and throws it to the ground. Then he grabs a tentacle and jams in between my head and the floor. Okay, now...let's see...then I ...I sort of...  
And he begins poking and prodding up and down my body.

I don't think there's any bleeding.Of course there isn't any BLEE--

Spongebob jams a spoon in my mouth.

Don't try to talk, Squidward! You'll swallow your tongue!

He grabs a free tentacle and brings it to his ear. Or, at least, where an ear is _supposed _to be.

You're still alive, Squidward, I can hear a pulse! Isn't that great! Aren't you glad I took that seminar?

I spit the spoon out, and it lands on that stupid snail of his. Spongebob, get away from me!I need to keep you warm now. Here, let me get you a blanket.

He throws a blanket on my head. I think I'll just sit here for a while. It's much safer that way.

Lunchtime in Loonytown

That sure was a close call this morning, Squidward.You haven't touched your onion, ketchup and marshmallow sundae. I thought you might like some nourishment after your brush with Death!

I regard the seeping, fermented glop in the bowl he's placed in front of me. I've been in outhouses where the contents were more appetizing.

I didn't have a brush with death. I'm just a normal, peace-loving guy, who would like to wake up to a traditional _beep-beep._I get it, Squidward, I read once that after you realize your mortality, you begin to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Personally, I look forward to rubbing Gary's eyestalks.

He plops his stupid snail on the table beside my sundae. Here, give it a try!

The slug in front of me just stares. Man, that thing is creepy.

Spongebob...I am not going to rub his eyestalks.Suit yourself! And he does it himself. Right here in front of me. The snail's eyes begin to wobble and sway. Oh my god, he's purring.

Okay, Spongebog, not that this isn't _fun_...

I make my way to the door, but Spongebob beats me to it. His body expands to form a barricade preventing my escape. You can't leave, Squidward. You've got to stay here where it's safe. I can take care of you! You don't have a house, or money, and you almost died this morning!Spongebob, I do have a house. I just have to get it back from those morons! And I have money. You just need to give it to me!

He opens his mouth wide...wider...cavernous! And out pops his tongue in the shape of a cash register drawer. There is even a stupid _ding_ to accompany it.  
And there, in the centre of his tongue/cash register, is a coin, It pops out and lands on the floor at my feet.

What's that for?That's your allowance.Ohhhhwwwwww! I don't want an allowance! I want all of my money!That would be foolish, Squidward. You'll just dig yourself into a deeper hole.The only hole I'm in is this stupid pineapple you call a dwelling! And it's your fault that I'm here! I would rather starve, sell my emaciated body to pirates to use as a flag on their ship, and spend my final days on this stupid planet as a toilet for scallops than continue living with you here in this furnished fruit, accepting a piddly allowance. I never had an allowance. Even when I was a kid. I always worked for a living. I'm independent.Y'know Squidward, sometimes it's better to admit that you need help. Everybody needs help every once in a while. I need help all the time!Spongebob, can you just remove yourself from the doorway, and let me get on my way?

He shrinks down to normal size again, but the eagerness has drained from his face.

Okay, Squidward...obviously I haven't provided the right sort of life for you. I guess good intentions just don't cut it in the real world. In the real world, your children grow up so fast, and they get jobs and find places to live and suddenly you find yourself alone with the memory of your good intentions. That's it! Just memories! Memories and the little nicks in the wall where you measured their fragile bodies year after year. I tried, Squidward! I tried to make this work! But I'm just a small sponge in a big sea!

And the pathetic creature shrinks to the size of a peanut right here in front of me.

Why don't you just step on me, and get it over with?

Plankton walks up to join Spongebob on the floor at my feet. That's what I've been saying for years! Even if you weren't as dumb as you are, even if you had the kind of brilliant mind that I have, you wouldn't be any better off.Hey, Plankton. Now I understand now how it feels to want something as bad as you do. Your desire for that Krabby Patty Secret Formula...why, that's just like my desire to be a good role model for Squidward. You wanting to make the Chum Bucket a success, why...that's no different than me wanting to get Squidward back on his feet.

What is Plankton doing in Spongebob's pineapple? Doesn't anybody knock around here? I am going to put a stop to this once and for all.

Plankton, what the hell are you doing here, I ask.

I was hoping you'd tell me the Krabby Patty secret formula.Have we ever given you the Krabby Patty formula? Haven't you learned anything from your many foiled attempts? Why don't you get on with your life! Try something else. Maybe, like me, you have a certain gift for music.Well, with a little more exercise, I could play the harmonica! Oh, I see what you're doing...you're trying to distract me from my purpose.I'm trying to point out that it might be in your best interests to find another purpose.

Spongebob interjects: But Squidward, what would our lives be like without Plankton trying to steal the Krabby Patty formula?Different! Our lives would be different, you moron! And different would be a good thing. Aren't you tired of the same stupid routine? Aren't you tired of standing at the grill making those disgusting patties? Aren't you tired of poking your head out of the order window and seeing me every single day? What about your pants and shirt and tie? Don't you have anything else to wear? Don't you want to spend time with somebody that isn't a squid, crab, squirrel or starfish?

Spongebob looks baffled, but then catches sight of Gary and his face brightens. I do know somebody who isn't a squid, crab, squirrel, or starfish...Gary!

I have nothing more to say. I scowl at him, but it seems to do no good. What is good, is the fact that Spongebob was distracted enough to disregard his guarding duties, and I walk out into the open air.

I inhale deeply. 

I take a step forward, when a jellyfish comes swooping down and zaps me in the head. 

Fish paste.

An evening headache

I have no choice but to lay here on Spongebob's sofa, nursing my headache. I hate jellyfish. Now I'm crippled and can't go anywhere until the pain is gone.

Spongebob is giving Gary a bath. Let me rephrase that, he's _trying_ to give Gary a bath. Is it always such an ordeal? Why must everything be done the hard way?

Maybe tommorrow will be better? I'll get my house back. I'll find a nice job. It'll be great! This is just the break I needed to get myself back on track. It's always darkest before the dawn, right? I will let this brush with poverty inspire me! _I'm gonna go find a fridge to keep my lemons cold, damn it!_


End file.
